Pablo Neruda

Spanish. He wrote entirely in Spanish, and much of what makes his poetry resonate — the sound, the rhythm, and the way he plays with syntax — is best experienced in the original language. Still, there are some fantastic English translations available. Gregory Rabassa, W.S. Merwin, and Stephen Mitchell have all brought his work to English readers, and Merwin's translations of the *Twenty Love Poems* stand out particularly well.

Start with *Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair*. It's brief, easy to read, and has a powerful impact. If you're looking for something more lighthearted, try *Odes to Common Things*—in which he writes about everyday objects with genuine seriousness and joy—as a great follow-up. Keep *Canto General* for when you're prepared to dive into something truly epic.

His father, who worked on the railways, wasn't supportive of his son pursuing poetry and would have likely tried to prevent it. As a teenager, Neftalí Reyes began publishing under a pseudonym. He probably chose it from the Czech author Jan Neruda, but he never confirmed this for sure. By the time he reached adulthood, the name Pablo Neruda had become such a part of who he was that he decided to make it official.

Yes, he was openly political for most of his adult life. He became a member of the Chilean Communist Party in 1945 and stayed with it until his death. His political views also influenced his poetry — *Canto General* is a clear political statement, presenting a history of Latin American colonization and resistance from the viewpoint of the oppressed. He was a strong supporter of Salvador Allende and was deeply affected by the coup in 1973.

The official record states heart failure as the cause of death on September 23, 1973—twelve days after Pinochet's coup. However, Neruda's driver and others close to him allege that he was injected with something at the clinic where he was being treated. Forensic investigations have discovered traces of a bacterium linked to biological weapons in his remains. No conclusive determination has been made, and the case remains under investigation.

*Canto General* is an epic made up of 340 poems, published in 1950, that explores Latin America's natural history, indigenous peoples, colonization, and political struggles. It stands out as one of the most ambitious poetry projects of the twentieth century. You don't have to read it all at once — many readers prefer to sample different sections. A popular entry point is *The Heights of Macchu Picchu*, which is often published separately and offers a great introduction to his work.

He's a key figure in twentieth-century poetry, no doubt — not just in Latin America but around the world. He took in European surrealism and modernism, blending them with the landscapes, politics, and rhythms of South America. Poets like García Lorca, Walt Whitman, and the French surrealists all shaped his writing. In turn, he inspired countless poets writing in Spanish and beyond.

They're genuinely good. Some of the lines have been quoted so often that they might seem overused, but when read in context — especially in a well-done translation — they still hold a significant emotional impact. Poem XV, which starts with "I like for you to be still," and Poem XX, "Tonight I can write the saddest lines," are well-known for a reason. The collection is also surprisingly bittersweet for something labeled love poems; themes of loss and longing weave throughout.